


First Time

by dabbling_dood



Series: Reverse Falls - WillDip [3]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: M/M, Reverse Falls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-06-22 15:24:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15584889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dabbling_dood/pseuds/dabbling_dood
Summary: Dipper had slept with a guy like that, once.  Talk about a waste of time.  Apparently, an angel in the streets was not always a devil in the sheets.  If Will Cipher was anything like that, Dipper would—hell, at least a quarter of Dipper’s mental wank bank would take a hit.  Keeping Real Will separate from Fantasy Will was already a mind bender.OR the first time Dipper has sex with Will Cipher.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in my drafts for ages. I guess it's about time I posted it.

The evening showing at the Tent of Telepathy ended, and the curtain dropped.  Dipper’s and Mabel’s smiles dropped with it.  With matching sighs, they trudged backstage.

“Ten shows in one day is way too much,” Mabel groaned, pulling off her shoes between strides.

Dipper huffed.  “You tell Grunkle Stan.  I’ve gotta get this crap off my face.”

“Oh, boo-hoo, your stage make-up is uncomfortable.  Try wearing high heels, too.”  Mabel shook her shoes at him.

“You already talked me into that once,” Dipper said, jabbing a finger at Mabel.  The motion was half-hearted, and his arm dropped back to his side with a lifeless _thump_.  Mabel didn’t bother replying.

As they vanished into their respective dressing rooms, Dipper slumped against his door with a sigh.  A quiet cough made him look up.

“Oh, not again,” Dipper groaned.

The blue triangle hovering next to the vanity twisted his hands, shrugging.  “I’ve been using more energy than usual.”

“Join the club,” Dipper muttered, rubbing his face.  He pushed himself off the door and held out his right hand.  “Here.  Hurry up.”

Will Cipher hesitated.  “If you’re too tired—”

“I’m not putting this off until someone sees you again.”

Will winced.  He took Dipper’s hand, enveloping them both in blue flame.  As bone, muscle, and tendon wove up Will’s arm, Dipper braced himself for the momentary weakness that came with the energy transfer.  A ribcage encased the triangle.  Skin and clothes had just begun to form when the room tilted.

“Pine Needle!”

Dipper caught himself on the vanity, blinking through the vertigo.  Will had a grip on his upper arm as well as his hand, now, and the skin closing over his face was creased with concern.

“Ten shows,” Dipper muttered.  “Definitely too much.” 

“Are you okay, kid?” Will asked, pulling him upright.

Dipper didn’t bother protesting that he wasn’t a kid.  “M’fine.  Just need to get this crap off my face and go to bed.”

“You should eat something, too.”

Grunting noncommittally, Dipper dragged a stool in front of the vanity and dug through the drawers for the makeup remover.  Will hovered nearby, his vest forming a blue backdrop behind Dipper’s face in the mirror, like he was waiting for him to fall again.  Dipper bristled.

“Don’t you have something else to do?”

Will winced, mumbled an apology, and slunk out of the dressing room.  Compared to his vest, the redwood furniture behind Dipper had the warm, hungry shadows of a throat or an open wound.  Dipper rubbed his eyes.  He needed to get some sleep.

~

The first thing Dipper said the next morning was, “ _Again?_ ”

Will, a triangle once more, kicked his feet in midair and avoided Dipper’s gaze.  Mabel pushed cereal around in her bowl.

“Apparently you didn’t give him much energy yesterday.  Can’t imagine why,” she said in a monotone.  It came out distorted, since the hand propping her head up squished her mouth. 

Dipped grabbed a bowl and dropped into the seat opposite her.  “If I’d known demons had to be charged like cell phones, I would’ve asked for a different contract.”

“I don’t have to be _charged_ ,” Will mumbled.

Mabel’s mouth tilted.  “I bet I could attach cell phone charms to your top hat.”

“Please don’t.”

“At least the physical form is permanent.”  Dipper peered into the cereal box, wrinkled his nose, and poured himself a bowl anyway.  “It doesn’t look human, but it’s…something.”

“This is how I look!” Will protested, straightening his hat and bow-tie.

“Couldn’t you have picked a bird or a cat or something?  Oregon isn’t exactly known for its floating triangles,” Mabel said around mouthful of cereal.

“Organic forms are complicated, and they need so much maintenance…”

“At least we don’t have to charge every day,” Dipper snorted.

“It’s a _handshake!_   It’s not difficult!”

“It’s still annoying,” Dipper said, but he held out his hand for Will.  As Will accepted the handshake and took on his temporary human form, Dipper leaned heavily on the table.  The wave of weakness wasn’t so bad, this time.

“Are you okay?” Will asked, adjusting his bow-tie.

Dipper nodded.  When he got up to get milk, Will beat him to the fridge, poured the milk for him, and put it away.  Dipper made a point of retrieving a spoon himself.

“There has to be a way to make the charges last longer,” Dipper said, stirring his cereal.

“Or make the temporary body less temporary,” Mabel added.

“Yes, exactly.”  Dipper spooned cereal into his mouth, made a face, and checked the nutrition facts on the box.  “Can we make the energy transfers more effective, or use the energy more efficiently?  Or maybe— _god,_ Mabel, do you know how much sugar is in this?  You’re going to crash in an hour.”

“Worth it,” Mabel muttered, pillowing her head on her arms.

Dipper shook his head.  The milk in his bowl was already turning purple.  “Whatever.  Cipher, the energy you get from me—could it be better?  On a scale from this crap…”  He shook the cereal box.  “…to a magically balanced breakfast, how would you rate the energy you’re getting now?”

Will shuffled his feet.  “Well…  It’s not—it’s not _bad_.”

“But it could be better?”

Will shrugged.  “The energy you put out unconsciously—it varies from time to time.  And surface-level energy isn’t always, um…”

“Is there a better way to do this, then?” Dipper asked.  Will looked away.  He stuttered out a few half-syllables, coughed, and adjusted his collar.   Dipper raised a brow.

When Will finally got a word out, his voice cracked.  “Well…”

Then, Stan burst into the kitchen with a bark of, “Mornin’!” and Will fled the room at a sprint.  Dipper blinked.

Stan exchanged blank looks with the twins.  “What was that about?”

Mabel made an “I don’t know” sound through a mouthful of cereal, and Dipper slowly shook his head, still staring after Will’s escape route.

~

Stan, as expected, spent half the day trying to talk the twins into keeping the ten-show schedule.  They made just as much profit with their usual eight shows per day—Dipper set up a PowerPoint presentation to prove it—but Stan didn’t give up until Mabel changed the board of show times herself.  While Stan sulked, Dipper snuck into the gift shop to replace the show time fliers.

Will was there with a rag and a spray bottle, turning a novelty martini glass in his hand.  He put it back on the shelf when Dipper came in.  “Oh—hello, Pine Needle.”

“Cipher,” Dipper replied.  He wrinkled his nose at the brochure rack.  “You still haven’t sorted these?”

Will stopped wiping down a shelf, cringing.  “I did, but, um… Miss Mabel’s friend threw someone into the rack yesterday evening.”

“Grenda?” Dipper sighed.

Will nodded.  Dipper was pretty sure he heard him mumble “that monster”.  Rolling his eyes, Dipper picked through the rack for fliers with the rejected schedule.  He dropped the stack in the trash can, squinted thoughtfully, and then touched the amulet at his throat.  The papers burst into blue flame.  Mouth curling, Dipper strolled behind the counter to check for extras.  Will eyed the fire uneasily.

“Be careful,” Will said as Dipper fed a second stack of fliers in with the first.

Dipper stopped and arched a brow.  “Cipher.  Have you seen the pyrotechnic effects I use onstage?”

Shuffling his feet, Will went back to cleaning shelves.  God, was he really a demon?  He was so nice, it was like he was cramming Mabel’s over-sweetened cereal down Dipper’s throat.  What did he expect to get out of it?

Dipper leaned against the counter, crossing his arms.

“By the way,” he said, “you never answered my question earlier—”

The spray bottle hit the ground with a _clunk_.  For a moment, Will was motionless.  Then, without looking at Dipper or the spray bottle, he began furiously scrubbing the nearest shelf.  Dipper raised his brows.  He took his time walking up to Will, whose eye stayed locked on his task.

“Cipher.”

Will didn’t reply.  Dipper scowled.

“Cipher, answer my question.  There’s an alternative to the handshake, isn’t there?”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Will cleared his throat.  “Yes.”

“What is it?” Dipper pressed.  Will ducked his head.

“It’s…”  He made a strained noise and rubbed his darkening face.  He took a deep breath.  “It’s not…  It would take more time.”

“How much time?”

Will thinned his lips and replied slowly, “Depends on…on the person and…and, um…”  He shook his head.  “It-it depends.”

Dipper grunted.  “And how long would the charge last?”

“About a month.”

“A _month?”_ Dipper blurted.  Will hastily shook his head, opening his mouth as though to correct himself, but then he slumped in resignation.  Dipper leaned forward.  “What is it, a blood ritual?  Animal sacrifice?”

Will shook his head, bending to retrieve the spray bottle.  Dipper took it from him and put it on the shelf.

“Cipher, look at me.  How do I make the energy transfer last a full month?”

“You—um.”  Will’s gaze wandered the ceiling.  “It’s not something you—I mean—” 

With a low groan, he ran his hands over his face and leaned toward Dipper.  He spoke just above a whisper.

“I can take more, ah, raw energy from you under the right—under the right circumstances.  It’s very…”  Will made an aimless gesture.  “It’s very _involved_.  Visceral.  The instinct is natural, but there’s a certain level of vulnerability, and you—not everyone is-is willing to, um…  Not everyone is comfortable with that level of—of—”

“Are you going to tell me what this ritual is, or not?”

Will sent Dipper a pained look.  “I’m trying, really.  I’m just not—I don’t know if you’re ready for this sort of—this sort of thing.”

Dipper squared his shoulders.  “Try me.”

Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  “I can draw energy from a—from a carnal exchange.”

Dipper stared blankly.  Very slowly, he began, “You’re talking about—”

“Sexual energy,” Will blurted.  “I can feed off of sexual energy.”

For five full seconds, Dipper turned the information over in his head. 

_(Bent over his desk or spread out on the bed or pinned to a wall or—)_

He responded with a weak, “Oh.”

“You don’t have to,” Will was saying in a rush, “and I wouldn’t want you to push yourself into it purely for the sake of convenience or, um—”

_(Sloppy kisses and throbbing hickeys and—)_

“Fuck me,” Dipper muttered.  Will paused, catching his gaze, and Dipper coughed and straightened.  “Okay, so, sex.  That’s not such a big deal.”

Will looked doubtful.  “Are you sure?”

“I’m twenty years old, Cipher.”

“That’s not as old as you think it is.”

“I’ve had sex.  I can handle it.”

“It’s not that I don’t think you can handle it.  I just don’t want you to feel pressured,” Will insisted, twisting the cleaning rag.  Amusement curled the edge of Dipper’s mouth.

“You think you’re _pressuring_ me?” he said slowly.

Will ran a hand over his face.  “I mean you don’t have to—you shouldn’t do something like that just for convenience.  You’re better off being inconvenienced than feeling uncomfortable or—or violated.  Not everyone is okay with…um…”  He gestured aimlessly.

Dipper furrowed his brow.  “Are you a virgin?”

Will looked up, blinking rapidly.  A series of questions flickered over his face before he replied with a quizzical “No.”

“You talk about sex like one,” Dipper remarked.

Will opened his mouth, closed it, and sighed.  “I’m trying to be delicate.  I wasn’t sure how you would take it.”

Dipper shrugged, eyeing the wall.  “It’s not that big a deal.”

It was a big deal, but the screams of “hell yes” and “hell no” in Dipper’s head cancelled each other out.  For a long time, neither one of them spoke.  Will picked up the spray bottle and dragged the rag half-heartedly across the shelf.  Dipper stared at the crackling trash bin.  His hands fidgeted.

“Do _you_ feel pressured?” Dipper finally asked.

Will went very still.  “No.”

Swallowing, Dipper straightened his posture and crossed his arms.  “Tonight, then?”

Will didn’t move at first.  When Dipper looked up, Will was staring at him.  Will snapped out of his trance and went back to cleaning.

“Tonight.”  Will’s voice was uneven.  Dipper watched the trash burn for a little longer before he shuffled out of the gift shop.

~

Dipper had slept with genuinely _nice_ people before.  He preferred exploiting them to fucking them, but Dipper couldn’t be too picky about his sexual partners, especially in a small town like Gravity Falls.  Nice people could be decent lays.  The moody redhead, for instance—the musician.  All Dipper had had to do was threaten her pride, and she’d had him hitting high notes.

But she was _nice_.  After the first one-night-stand, Dipper had started sneaking out while she was asleep.  It beat the bland pancakes and the cheesy ballads, the bits of affection she had dropped like nickels taped to donation envelopes: “Five cents is all it takes to make a difference, _blah, blah, blah.”_

The sex had been good, but it hadn’t lasted long.  She couldn’t buy more than Dipper was willing to sell. 

Will was nice, too.  Not an awkward attempt at niceness, like Wendy Corduroy, but the weird, genuine niceness of that flannel-wearing redneck she’d eventually hooked up with.  What was his name?  Valentino?

Dipper had slept with a guy like that, once.  Talk about a waste of time.  Apparently, an angel in the streets was _not_ always a devil in the sheets.  If Will Cipher was anything like that, Dipper would—hell, at least a quarter of Dipper’s mental wank bank would take a hit.  Keeping Real Will separate from Fantasy Will was already a mind bender.

Real Will knocked on Dipper’s bedroom door at seven PM, even though the door was open.  (Fantasy Will would have been on the bed already, half-dressed and hungry-eyed.)  Dipper glanced out the window.  Grunkle Stan’s car wasn’t in the driveway.  Dipper hadn’t planned for him and Mabel to go on an impromptu shopping trip, but as long as they didn’t return as abruptly as they’d left, it worked for him.

“Come in and close the door,” Dipper told Will.  He nudged the damp washcloths on the nightstand closer to the water bottles, if only to check whether they had dried out.  He had almost put away the second water bottle before Will came in—anything to prove that this was purely sex, not an invitation to write him love songs—but Dipper prided himself on being a courteous partner in bed.

And on the off chance that Will had somehow not recognized Dipper as a grade-A asshole, he might expect to share Dipper’s water bottle.  Dipper wasn’t _that_ courteous.

(Except with Mabel, who stole his drinks when he wasn’t looking.  He would return the favor if she didn’t drink so many bizarre homemade concoctions.)

Will cleared his throat, fiddling with his sleeve cuffs.  “Would you like to top or bottom?”

Dipper kept his posture straight but wouldn’t meet Will’s gaze.  “I’m a bottom,” he said as evenly as he could.

“Exclusively?”  At Dipper’s sharp look, Will took a defensive stance.  “For future reference.  _If_ we do this again, I mean.  You don’t have to, um—”

“Mostly, yes,” Dipper interrupted.

“Oh—okay.  Okay.”

Dipper watched Will out of the corner of his eye, but the demon showed no signs of judgment, or even surprise.  He hadn’t decided whether that was more reassuring or unnerving before Will spoke again.  “Do you have lubricant?”

Dipper pulled a bottle from the back of his bedside drawer.  “Right here.  Condoms, too.”

“My vessel is clean.  You won’t catch anything from me.”

“You’ll wear a condom until I have time to get you tested.”

“Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Dipper glanced sideways at Will, but there was nothing belittling in his face or tone.  Chewing his lip, Dipper walked up to Will.  “Come on.  Let’s get this over with.” 

As Dipper started to unbutton his blazer, Will grabbed his hands, stopping him.  _(Wanted to undress Dipper himself, wanted to strip him bare and—)_

Will’s brow was creased.  “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want it.”

“Cipher, it’s fine,” Dipper sighed.

“But do you want this?” Will pressed.  “You shouldn’t have to push yourself to have sex with me.  Are you sure you want this?”

“I want it,” Dipper insisted, shrugging off his blazer.  “Take off your clothes, or I’ll do it for you.”

Will looked hopeful.

Dipper tossed his blazer at him with a snort.  “I’m not doing it for you.”

“I’ll undress you if you undress me,” Will offered.  Dipper, who had been unfastening his ribbon, stopped to meet Will's gaze.  Will coaxed him closer with a light tug on his arm.

Gently tilting Dipper’s chin up with his hand, Will untied Dipper’s ribbon.  Dipper grabbed Will’s vest on reflex.  When Will set aside the ribbon and the amulet attached to it, Dipper’s eyes lingered on it—the source of his magic, his invincibility.

Will unbuttoned Dipper’s shirt.  Dipper hastily started on Will’s buttons.  Maybe he wouldn’t see Will without his powers, but he sure as hell would see him without his clothes.  As Dipper unbuckled Will’s belt, Will lifted his chin.  Dipper’s breath hitched.  Will paused.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“We haven’t even started, Cipher,” Dipper said, keeping his voice level.

Will thinned his lips.  “Can I kiss you?”

Oh, hell.  Dipper was not getting out of this with his self-delusions intact.  Nodding, he leaned in until their lips met.  Will exhaled unsteadily. 

It started out slow, chaste.  Will let Dipper lead but didn’t leave all the effort to him.  Instead, he mirrored Dipper’s motions, and Dipper wondered again if this was Will’s first time.  Dipper traced the seam of Will’s mouth with his tongue.  Will’s fingers twitched.  When his tongue found Dipper’s, Will cupped the back of Dipper’s neck and—

Oh.  _Oh_.  That was…not bad.  Pleasant, even.

Dipper gasped quietly.  Okay, this was definitely not Will’s first time—not his first time making out, anyway.  Dipper pressed closer, tugging at Will’s shirt.  Will got the message.  He kept giving Dipper those wet, probing kisses as he shed layers of clothing.  Skin on skin.  Roving hands.  When they had nothing but underwear between them, Dipper paused to collect himself.  He exchanged looks with Will.

Will’s throat bobbed.  “Um.  Are you ready to…?”

“Yeah,” Dipper said, taking a deep breath.

His pulse had just remembered that he was about to get naked with Will Cipher, and his eyes kept dancing around the only piece of clothing left on the demon who had invaded his wet dreams—the only part of Will that Dipper had yet to see, now.  Then, Dipper’s gaze settled on the eyepatch.

Make that _two_ parts he had yet to see.  Will shied away from Dipper’s questing hand.

“You shouldn’t—”  Will grabbed Dipper’s wrist.  Although he leaned into the touch of Dipper’s fingers on his face, he kept them from reaching their target.  “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Why not?” Dipper asked.

Will hesitated.  Thinning his lips, he slowly guided Dipper’s hand to the eyepatch.  Dipper removed the patch carefully, the steady pressure of Will’s hold on his wrist, until Will’s right eye was uncovered.

Dipper leaned forward.  He saw nothing but darkness between Will’s pale lashes—not the opaque darkness of empty holes, but the hungry darkness that lines throats and open wounds.  The faintest hint of _something_ lurked inside.  Squinting, Dipper drew closer.

Were those stars?  Dipper could barely make them out, but they grew clearer by the second.  He was caught, weightless, at the tipping point before a tumble into the abyss, into the dusting of stars and the aching gaps between them.  Dipper’s heart froze on an up-beat.  He didn’t breathe.

When Will’s eyelids clamped shut, it was like being physically torn from something.  Dipper’s hands darted forward.  Will brushed him off.

“Pine Needle.  Dipper…Dipper, look at me.”

Dipper blinked.  The call of the abyss faded as quickly as it had come.

Will let out a soft sigh.  “You have to be careful not to look for too long.”

“What was that?” Dipper asked as Will took back his eyepatch.

“A rift.”  Will put on the patch and adjusted the strings.  “It lets me access my dimension—my power, I mean—without bringing it all into your world with me.”  He straightened his hair.  “I’m—I’ll leave the patch on for this.”

Dipper hummed, staring at the eyepatch.  Something must have shown on his face, because Will cupped Dipper’s chin and angled him toward the other eye.

“No scheming, Pine Needle.  One thing at a time.”

Dipper rolled his eyes, but the smirk on his face was hardly suppressed.  “Hurry up and get undressed, then.”  He snapped Will’s waistband.

Will’s mouth tilted, and he snapped his fingers.  There was suddenly air on Dipper’s nether regions.  Dipper startled.  When he looked down, they were both bare.

“Oh,” Dipper said.

Will faltered, nervously shifting weight.  “Is this still okay?”

“Yeah,” Dipper said quickly.  He pressed up against Will, cupping the side of his neck.  “Come on.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the smut. I meant to post this earlier, and I'm sorry about that. It's been a busy couple of weeks.

Dipper would have been content to spend the evening making out, but Mabel and Stan wouldn’t be out of the house forever.  He dragged his fingers down the trail of hair on Will’s abdomen.

“Can I touch…?” Dipper trailed off as Will’s hand cupped his, guiding it to his target.  Warm.  Uncut.  Dipper squeezed lightly.  Will’s cock twitched.

Sighing, Will squeezed Dipper’s leg, thumb stroking his inner thigh.  “May I?”

“Yeah.  Touch me.”

As Will’s hand explored, Dipper closed his eyes.  Will nipped at his bottom lip.  Dipper invited Will into his mouth again, and as they went back to making out, the cautious, exploratory touches turned to stroking.  Will’s free hand cupped Dipper’s rear.

When Dipper rocked his hips, Will began massaging his ass in time with his dick, and Dipper moaned quietly.  This cock in his hand was going to stretch him out so well.  Will was hardening quickly.

Dipper pushed Will back against the pillows and straddled his lap.  He took a moment to run his hands down Will’s front, “accidentally” brushing his cock, and smirked as Will’s hips twitched.  Dipper grabbed the condom and lube.  Although Will held out his hand for the condom, Dipper unwrapped it and rolled it over Will’s cock himself.  Will made a low, hungry sound in his throat.

“Here,” Dipper said, passing him the lube.  “You’d better not do a half-assed job.”

Will looked insulted.  “Of course not.”

Dipper settled against Will and listened to him work the lube over his fingers.  Will cupped his ass, hands slick, and traced his entrance.  Dipper shivered.

“May I?” Will asked.

Dipper tucked his face into Will’s shoulder.  “Yeah.  Go ahead.”

He felt Will nuzzle the side of his neck, and then a fingertip slipped inside him.  Will worked Dipper open slowly, like a virgin, until Dipper made a plaintive noise and grabbed his hand, easing it deeper.

“Careful,” Will said, but he flexed his finger when Dipper wiggled his hips impatiently. 

Dipper arched, sighing.  Will stroked his rear.  By the time he’d started working a second finger inside, he’d found the spot that made Dipper buck, and he exploited it mercilessly.  Dipper rolled his hips to match the maddening rhythm Will had set.

Will fondled Dipper’s cheeks with his free hand. “You’re opening up quickly.”

“I do this a lot,” Dipper admitted breathlessly.  Humming, Will flexed his fingers.

“What do you think about when you do it?” he asked.  Dipper bit his lip, fingers pressing dents into Will’s skin, and didn’t answer.  When Will circled his prostate with his fingers, Dipper bucked.  “Pine Needle.  What do you think about?”

Dipper buried his face in Will’s shoulder.  “Mm…  Porn.  Actors, sometimes.”

“Doing what?”

“I—I don’t know.  Fucking me, teasing me.”

“You like being teased?”  Will rubbed a third finger against Dipper’s entrance.

Dipper sank down onto it, moaning, “Yeah.”

“What else do you like?” Will asked.

There were suddenly three fingers drumming Dipper’s prostate and five more wrapping around his cock.  Dipper gasped.  “ _Th-that!_   That, that feels good…”

Will nuzzled his neck.  He gathered both their cocks into his hand, the condom slick against Dipper’s skin, and Dipper rocked between the sensations in his cock and his ass.

“What else?” Will asked.  Dipper made a questioning sound.  “What else do you think about?”

Dipper shuddered, bucking.  “U-um, I—two guys fucking me senseless, sometimes three…  Sometimes, when I’m working, I imagine some—someone bending me over my desk and…”

“Do you want to do this on your desk?” Will asked hoarsely.

“We are _not_ making a mess on my stuff.”

Will made an amused sound.  Dipper shivered as Will’s thumb swiped over his slit.  Grabbing Will’s other hand, Dipper pulled his fingers out of his hole and scooted forward on his knees.  Will squeezed his hip.  Dipper’s breathing hitched as he pressed the tip of Will’s cock against his entrance.

“You ready?” he asked.

In response, Will cupped Dipper’s cheeks and squeezed, spreading him open.  His one blue eye was intent on Dipper’s face.  Dipper took a breath, closed his eyes, and sank down onto Will’s cock.

Will made a strained sound.  Dipper shuddered.  He had been aching for more than fingers, but he may not have waited long enough while Will stretched him.  With a high sound cracking in his throat, Dipper eased himself all the way down, his inner walls twitching at the precarious edge between discomfort and desire.

Will’s hands clenched Dipper’s cheeks.  Tendons stood out in his jaw.  As Dipper adjusted, he began to rock gently in place.  Will bared his teeth and let out a shaky rush of air.  Dipper ran his hands over the taut muscles in Will’s abdomen, fascinated.  Will was really holding back.  What would it feel like when he let go?

“Does it hurt?” Will asked, his voice thumbscrew-tight.  Dipper ground down on his lap.  Will’s grimace turned to a snarl, and his hips twitched, but he kept still.  “Pine Needle—”

“Move.  You can move,” Dipper breathed.  He jerked when Will gave an experimental roll of his hips.  Will stopped moving again, but Dipper wiggled insistently.  Will finally gave in with a hard thrust.  Dipper gasped.  “Just like that… _nnh.”_

Dipper began bouncing in Will’s lap.  As they settled into a rhythm, Will watched Dipper with the hungry stare he’d only seen in his wet dreams, and Dipper shuddered under a fresh wave of arousal. 

Will groaned, rolling his hips.  “You’re more responsive than I expected.”

“Yeah?  _Ah_ …  What did you think I would be like?” Dipper asked.

“Thought I’d have to— _ooh_ —drag the noises out of you, _make_ you squeal…”

Dipper moaned.  When he muffled himself against Will’s neck, Will let out a breathy laugh.

“I like this better,” Will rasped in his ear.  Dipper nipped him.  “ _Nnh_ …  Knew you’d be feisty.”

“You’ve thought about this before, huh?”

Will faltered, but Dipper clenched around him, making his hips buck.  As Will fell back into their rhythm, Dipper closed his eyes.

“I’ve thought about it, too,” Dipper admitted quietly.

Will’s shoulders loosened.  He wrapped an arm around Dipper’s waist.  “Bending you over your desk?”

If Dipper’s face hadn’t been flushed already, it would have at that.  He muttered, as much to himself as to Will, “Don’t get any ideas.”

While Dipper’s mind flipped through recent fantasies—bent over his desk, splayed on the bed, pinned to the dressing room door—Will shifted weight.  He pressed a hand against Dipper’s ribcage, and Dipper let him roll them over.  Will nuzzled Dipper’s neck.  Then, his hips snapped forward hard enough to make Dipper jolt.

“ _Oh!”_ Dipper choked out, louder than he meant to.  He wrapped his legs around Will’s waist.  Will buried himself to the hilt, circled his hips, and brushed something sensitive.  Dipper twitched.  Will made an approving sound.

An expertly-angled thrust left Dipper gasping.  It had to be an accident, a fluke, a combination of chance and Dipper angling himself for more stimulation—but no, the next thrust ignited like a match on strike paper.  Dipper keened.

“There?” Will asked, and Dipper nodded rapidly.

“There, there, ye- _ah!”_   Another thrust interrupted him.  Dipper wiggled his hips, encouraging Will to speed up.

Will smoothed a hand down Dipper’s side, squeezed his hip, and—and he was holding Dipper’s hips _still_ , limiting his movements to aborted jerks.  The next thrust was as perfect as the rest, but it left Dipper starved for more.  If not for the fingers digging into his twitching hips, Dipper might have bucked free and ridden Will to his heart’s content.

“Ple- _ease_ , faster—C-Cipher, it’s not enough—”  Dipper gasped as another thrust hit home.

“Use my first name,” Will said.

_“Will,”_ Dipper groaned, trying to buck free again.  “Will, please, I—more!”

“You don’t need to adjust?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine!  Just— _oh_ —”

“Are you sure?  I don’t want to hurt you.”  Will did _something_ —two little half-thrusts that didn’t fill Dipper all the way, but prodded directly at his prostate—all kinds of unfair.

“I’m fine!  I—I’ve done this before!  Oh, _god,_ I need—please, you can be as rough as you wa- _ah_ - _a-ant!”_

“ _Unh_ …careful.”  Will’s fingers dug into Dipper’s juddering hip.  “Don’t s—don’t strain yourself.”

“Damn it, Cipher, just _fuck me!”_ Dipper snapped.  He made a high, desperate sound when Will cupped his face, shushing into his ear.

“I asked you to call me Will.”

“ _Will,”_ Dipper snarled, “if you don’t fuck me _right now_ , I swear—”

That, apparently, was the right incentive.  Dipper broke into hoarse cries as Will gave him thrusts without rhythm or rhyme, so much better than before, but still not quite enough.  Dipper was caught between taking everything he could get and pleading for more.

“Good boy,” Will rumbled.  “Does it feel g—good?”

Dipper tightened his legs around Will’s waist in response.  “D-don’t…sto-o-op…”  Will slowed down, and Dipper let out a frustrated cry.  “ _No-no-no_ _please, please!”_

“You said ‘stop’,” Will said, but there was mirth in his tone, and the corner of his mouth curled.

“I said _‘don’t_ stop’, you fucking—”

“Are you sure?”  Will sped up again.  Dipper’s head tipped back as the thrusts grew rhythmic, eyes hooded.  Will panted against his neck.  “Ma-aybe I should— _nnh_ —slow down for you.”

Dipper’s voice cracked.  “Don’t you dare!”

Mouthing over Dipper’s neck, Will drove the pleasure deeper into him.  Dipper tangled his fingers in Will’s hair as teeth found his skin, bringing out little sparks of pain like bittersweet chocolate.  Dipper reached for his cock.

Will wrapped a hand around Dipper’s and guided it up and down.  Dipper’s legs shook.

“Will, I’m almost—!”

“Go on,” Will gasped.  “Come for me.”

“Will, Will, _oh fuck Will—”_   His voice kept cracking, but Dipper couldn’t bring himself to care.

“ _Uhn,_ you sound so _good…_   Go on, Pine Needle, let go.  Come for me.  _Come._ ”

“I’m close, I’m close!  Just—just fuck me—make me—”

Will’s breath was hot on Dipper’s ear.  _“Come for me, Mason.”_

And damned if that didn’t go straight to Dipper’s cock.  His whole body seized up, and his climax interrupted his pleas with a cry of Will’s name, half-formed on his lips.  He felt Will shudder.  Erratic thrusts drew out Dipper’s declining orgasm as Will finished with a long moan.  It sounded a little like “Mason”.

As Dipper slowly came back to himself, Will collapsed next to him.  Dipper grunted as Will pulled out and removed the condom.  Once he tossed it into the trash can, the room was quiet except for their breathing.  Will eventually propped himself up and leaned over Dipper, who cracked an eye open. 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Dipper closed his eyes again.  “I’m fine.  Your dick isn’t a deadly weapon.”

A puff of amusement brushed Dipper’s face, and the mattress creaked as Will pushed himself up.  Dipper heard him slide out of bed and cross the room.  Will peeked out between the curtains.

“Are they back?” Dipper asked.

Will shook his head, stepping away from the window.  “I don’t see the car.”

Grunting, Dipper grabbed a washcloth.  As Dipper cleaned himself up, Will took both water bottles and offered one to him.  Dipper took it carefully.  Will sat down on the mattress and drank, apparently unaware of Dipper’s wary gaze.

“You’re set for a month, then?” Dipper eventually asked.  Will nodded, wiping his mouth.

“As long as I don’t expend more energy than usual.”  He tapped Dipper’s bottle.  “You should drink something.”

It was such a light touch, but it suddenly turned the water into one of Wendy Corduroy’s ballads, a hook on a line.  Dipper had to swallow around the dryness in his throat before he unscrewed the cap.  He was thirsty.  That’s all this was.  Will wasn’t watching him drink, poised to spring the moment Dipper accepted the breadcrumb of kindness.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

When Dipper looked up, there was a teasing curl to Will’s mouth.  Dipper made an amused sound.  “You look awfully confident.”

Will shrugged, biting his lip.  “I liked it.”

“It was fun,” Dipper agreed mildly.  He swirled the water in his bottle.  “So, next month?”

Will perked up so quickly, he could have been a child who spotted a candy jar.

Dipper snorted.  “You’re so _eager_.”

Will smiled sheepishly and started to reply, but then headlights traced a path across the walls, and a car engine turned off.  Dipper and Will both stilled.  As Mabel’s and Stan’s voices drifted up through the night, Dipper chucked the washcloths at his laundry basket.  Will snatched up his clothes.  It took him exactly two and a half seconds to get dressed, thanks to some sort of bastardized version of physics that made Dipper do a double-take.  Apparently, he really had given Will energy to spare.

Adjusting his bow-tie, Will grabbed the water bottles.  He paused and looked at Dipper.  “Do you want me to leave one here?”

Dipper hesitated.  Wendy Corduroy’s guitar strummed in the back of his mind.

Valentino probably didn’t interrupt her ballads to tell her to tune her guitar.  He probably didn’t sneak out the window while she slept.  He probably tolerated the bland pancakes she made in the morning, probably didn’t think twice before swallowing the bait; he would let her fish the tender center out of him because he was _nice_ and she was _nice,_ and their different brands of niceness mixed into a bland but edible whole.

Dipper had never let Wendy pry him open like that.  His own hungry world would have eaten him alive.

Will shook the water bottle.  Dipper tightened his jaw.

“You’re too nice, Cipher,” he finally said, but there was no bite to it.  “One of these days, someone’s going to take advantage of you.”

A crease flickered in Will’s brow, and his gaze darted around before settling on Dipper again.  “Is that a no, or…?”

Dipper sighed, shaking his head.  “Leave one.”

Will did as he asked and scurried toward the door.  He grabbed the knob, paused, and then cleared his throat, straightening.

“Next month?” he prompted.

Dipper nodded emphatically.  _“Yes.  Go.”_

Beaming, Will vanished into the hall.  Dipper pulled up the covers and dropped against the pillows.  He was smiling in spite of himself.

~

Twelve hours passed.

Dipper woke up late and rushed through his morning routine.  The Tent of Telepathy opened ten minutes late, thanks to the purpling splotch on his neck, and he had to re-apply concealer between shows.

By noon, so much foundation had rubbed off on his collar that he had to change shirts.  Will slunk out of the room when Mabel mentioned it.  Dipper let him go.  A thorough chewing-out could wait until evening.

~

A month passed.

Dipper woke up to a bed that smelled like sex.  He prodded at the hickeys dotting his collarbone, smiled faintly, and went to take a shower.

~

Three months.

Dipper woke up to a bed that smelled like Will, because Will was still in bed with him.  They fumbled through some awkward pauses.  Will helped Dipper cover up a hickey on the back of his neck.

~

Twelve.

Dipper woke up with Will tangled around him.  He curled closer and went back to sleep.

~

Dipper woke up.

The bed was empty.

He slowly pushed himself upright, hands braced carefully beneath him.  The only warm spot on the mattress was his.  Dipper kept his mind empty, empty as the bed, but blank minds fill with images the way throats fill with bile and wounds fill with blood—images like a woman with wound-red hair, sleeping soundly while Dipper crept out the window.

A woman with red hair waking up to an empty bed.

Dipper lowered his feet to the floor like an animal in new territory, reminding himself that Will probably had something to do, but there was no sound in the house.  Hollow resignation echoed in his chest.  Of course this was how it ended.  No warning; just an empty house and cruel irony.

Of course.  Of course.

The door opened.  A familiar head of blue hair poked inside.  “Oh, you’re awake.”

Dipper’s body unraveled so quickly it startled him.  As Will stepped into the room, Dipper hastily stood up and stretched.

“Stan is doing laundry,” Will told him.  Dipper grunted, shuffling across the room to tuck his face against Will’s neck.  Will’s scent filled his airway, coated his throat.  Will smoothed Dipper’s hair.  “Still sleepy?”

“Li’l bit.”

As Will stroked his hair, a part of Dipper wondered if Robbie Valentino was on the other side of town, eating pancakes with Wendy Corduroy.

He kind of hoped they were.  That would be nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out fluffier than I intended.  
> Check out my Tumblr, doodling-dood.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a few things to add to part two before it's finished, but it shouldn't be long.


End file.
